


sweet fruit

by onlyshe



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Bittersweet, Feelings Realization, Introspection, Komaeda Nagito's Luck Cycle, Light Angst, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Metaphors, Pining, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, experimental writing style :P
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:01:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29594562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlyshe/pseuds/onlyshe
Summary: "...Komaeda tries to distance himself from everything, balance himself between the sun and the sea. He can't have things taken from him if he doesn't have anything to begin with.[...but] Hinata burns so bright, and Komaeda is drawn to him like a moth to the flame."komaeda and his icarian descent into love.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 12
Kudos: 57





	sweet fruit

**Author's Note:**

> i got this idea and ran with it, very unpolished but w/e  
> i'm a sucker 4 greek mythology so i felt like i had to run w the concept as soon as it came to mind l0l
> 
> title taken from the song of the same name by loving
> 
> enjoy:)

Komaeda has always enjoyed the tale of Icarus.

It's one he knows well, the legend easily being one of his favourites from Greek mythology. 

Icarus, the boy with wings made of wax, took to the skies with his father in search of salvation from the island of Crete. He was warned to not fly too low, for fear of the currents below swallowing him whole. He was warned to not fly too high, for fear of melting beneath the sun's radiant glow.

Foolishly, he didn't heed the warnings, flying much too close to the sun and plummeting into the ocean as the heat melted his wings. He was too intoxicated on the hope of soaring beyond the clouds and onto the hallowed grounds of Olympus, drunk on the hope of ivory towers and feasts full of ambrosia and nectar. He was too blinded by the glory of the sun and golden promises within her smile to see the faults in her brilliance.

Thus, Icarus perished in the heat of the sun and the chill of the sea, drowning in the depths of his youthful valiance. 

The sorrow of his exuberance is one that Komaeda finds joy in. He loves thoroughly mulling the tale through his head. It gave him something to do when he was sick, withering away in a hospital bed with nothing but his books and thoughts to entertain him. 

It was something to do to help rationalize his luck cycle. His slim fingers would deftly work at the strings that spun the story, weaving them until the threads bent to his will. 

To Komaeda, the tale of Icarus was personal, largely because he could see himself in the poor boy and sought to learn from his mistakes. He would not falter, would not succumb to his own hubris. The world has hardened him enough to shield him from the fruit of youthful ignorance, unlike poor Icarus who gave in so easily to temptation.

Instead of the sun tempting him to greatness, the sun tempts him to get lost in fantasy. Her golden rays caress his pale cheeks with soft sighs, gentle whispers of a life full of fortune tugging on his heart. He knows nothing good will come from deluding himself into a life full of happy days, and so he stays aloft between the sun and the sea. 

He is content in his little lane, knowing that sometimes he will fly closer to the sun and experience bountiful joy, and sometimes he will fly closer to the ocean, cold water splashing onto his waxy wings and trying to drown him in utter misfortune.

When he flies too close to the sea, the world crumbles around him. He suffocates, drowns beneath blankets of darkness, choking up clovers and cursing the name of luck. He hates every second he spends with the murky water clinging to his skin, but with time, he's learned not to mind it so much. The sun was always able to dry him of his worries, the gifts she gave him in exchange for his plight making the dangerous dips seem meaningful.

So, he tries to stay in his lane, perfectly balanced between sea and sky. Sometimes, the wind will pull him closer in one direction, and the opposing force would retaliate. Sometimes, he would purposely fly too low, spurred by the ominous thought of what good luck would await him after the plunge. 

He knows not to purposely fly too close to the sun. All of her promises are fake, rotted apples dipped in golden caramel to deceive him. She will never truly give him what he wants, never truly let him find joy in a peaceful life. The sun is a cruel mistress, and he will always prefer feeding into the hand of the sea than hers.

All she does is take.

The sun is a selfish thing, and Komaeda promises himself he would never give into her selfishness, never stoop to Icarus' level. He will never let himself give into his selfish desires, never let his greed melt him like it had Icarus. 

Yet… 

The sun has yet to rise, for the hour is indecent and the moon is high in the sky. Even still, Komaeda can feel the warmth of her light encompassing his whole being. He is burning alive, scorching in his own skin as gold-coated musings flicker through his head ad nauseam. 

His body is weighted by that of another. A deep inhale brings along the scent of cinnamon and saltwater, of hearth and heart.

Tired eyes affix themselves to the boy snoring softly atop him, his face mashed into the porcelain of his skin. He’s swaddled in the cool tones of the moonlight outside, but he's still oozing with warmth. Komaeda feels as if he’s holding a fallen star against his chest, for his skin is scalding to the touch.

Komaeda skims his fingers along the length of his back, sighing softly when the boy snuggles closer.

_Hinata…_

He’s melting into him. He can’t help it. 

Komaeda is scared to love Hinata. He worries that, like many times before, he will become too hung-up in his own joy to realize how high he's become. He worries that the sun will punish him and burn hotter, making him dash toward the cool sea in search of refuge from the heat. He worries that he will fall victim to the sea, thrashing around helplessly as he watches the current rip Hinata from his arms.

He'll thrash around, his screams muffled by the waves as Hinata is whisked away by the sea of misfortune. It'll have been his fault for being too selfish, too drunk on euphoria to notice as his waxy wings began to melt. It'll have been his fault, like every other tragedy that has befallen him.

The sun sees all. She envies his light. She'll send him into the darkness as punishment for his optimism, stealing his passion to fuel her red-hot core.

It's why Komaeda tries to distance himself from everything, balance himself between the sun and the sea. He can't have things taken from him if he doesn't have anything to begin with.

A sad philosophy. Fitting of the boy who bears the tragedy of Icarus like the cross. 

But there's something about Hinata that fascinates Komaeda. His tan skin glows in the dim moonlight, the light smattering of freckles across his shoulders noticeable from their proximity. Beneath the flesh bubbles brightness, a tender mellowness that Komaeda cannot help but feel drawn toward. He wants nothing more than to reach into Hinata and see what lies in his center, to see what makes him glow so brightly.

Hinata is unlike anyone he has ever met. He's truly special, the brilliance of his light rivalling that of the sun. His voice is firm, domineering and cold on the edges but molten at the core, his every word dripping with the tenor of someone full of warmth. His left eye is glazed with ruby red, a red dwarf sun bustling with the promise of a supernova. His right eye is hazel, crawling with tiny flecks of brown and green like the night sky is alive with flecks of white.

Hinata burns so bright, and Komaeda is drawn to him like a moth to the flame. 

He oozes with something intangible, a greatness beyond his comprehension. He wants to unravel Hinata, split away at the threads and uncover whatever it is that makes him glow so fiercely. 

Komaeda traces his slender digits up and down his spine, etching nonsensical swirls into his skin. The pads of his fingertips are ablaze, the skin singing away with every second of contact.

He can't bring himself to pull away. He is wholly enamoured with Hinata. 

Komaeda’s fingers twist, this time pulling at the strings that compose the tragedy of Icarus, mulling over the legend for the millionth time in his head. 

It strikes him, then, that perhaps Icarus wasn’t as foolish as he initially believed him to be. Komaeda, too, has been tempted toward the sun, too intoxicated by Hinata’s brilliance to stop himself from flying closer. The golden taste of desire, the longing for what cannot be had is a powerful thing. It's shackled him like it had shackled Icarus, his selfishness spurring him to his eventual demise.

His luck cycle has ripped so many things from him — such as his parents — but has blessed him with so much in turn — such as wealth. He's learned not to be selfish, not to give in to what he wants. Attachment will only lead to loss, and it's impossible to grow attached to things if he doesn't let himself delight in worldly possessions and companions.

But he looks at Hinata and all of his reservation vanishes. His desperation to strike the equilibrium between good and bad, the balance between misfortune and fortune, all fizzles the moment his eyes land on the brunet. He feels, truly feels, all that Icarus had, the dizzying rush of euphoria from pursuing something so taboo.

Komaeda is Icarus. Young, selfish Icarus, blinded by the fruit of his youth, desperate to get a taste of what he knows he cannot have.

Hinata. His sweet, radiant Hinata, with his cold gaze and welcoming arms, glows brighter than the sun. He draws Komaeda in, the warmth of his body easily crumbling Komaeda's resolve.

His sweet, dearest Hinata, drawing him in with the promise of a happy ending, every tender word melting Komaeda’s heart until his wings are undone and he plummets forevermore into the sea.

Komaeda has become Icarus, the protagonist of the very legend he has spent so long trying to run from.

And Hinata is the sun. 

All Komaeda can do is hope that the fates let him soar higher than Icarus ever could.

**Author's Note:**

> i have rly bad writers block + i slammed this out in like an hour so its?????? eugh.....
> 
> regardless, thank you - as always - for reading my work! ^^ <3


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